


to speak from the hands

by Tamari



Series: Memory Shredded [1]
Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Forum: Goldenlake, Gen, Generational Trauma, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Indigenous characters, K'mir, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Sarain, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25101505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamari/pseuds/Tamari
Summary: Kalasin teaches Thayet to bead.
Relationships: Kalasin jian Wilima & Thayet jian Wilima
Series: Memory Shredded [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817956
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	to speak from the hands

1.  
  
As Thayet watches, Kalasin begins. “You pull your needle up through the fabric like this, then you add the beads. Just a few at a time. Go _down_ through—” her movements slow and exaggerated— “and pull tight. Come back up where you started and go through the centers. Pull again, keep it steady. See how the beads stay where I put them?”  
  
“Let me try, Mama.” Thayet’s small, pudgy hands are already reaching out.  
  
“Not on this blanket, my darling,” Kalasin says, setting it aside. “It will be for you when you wed, and it has to be made only by my hands. Let’s find something for you to practice with.”  
  
“Can it be yellow and green?”  
  
Kalasin smiles, a fox-clawed tightness curling inside her belly. “It can be anything you want.”  
  
“How’d you pick _your_ colors?” Thayet asks. “Are they your favorites?”  
  
While Thayet rifles through the scrap supplies, Kalasin holds her own beadwork and explains. “They are pretty colors, but I chose each of them for a reason. Especially for your wedding blanket. When I was growing up among the Hau Ma, our people, your grandmother taught me our ways. I’ll never be as talented as she was.”  
  
Thayet’s excitement isn’t dampened by the note of sadness in Kalasin’s voice. “So, what do the colors mean, Mama?”  
  
Kalasin’s finger travels across the beads. “See, I put blue here for Bian North-Wind, for our horses, good trade, healthy sleep, and healthy babies.” She winks.  
  
Thayet makes a face, but she listens intently.  
  
“Red for Vau East-Wind, for strength, for truth found and said, for safe travel, for all that we create. White for Shai South-Wind, for magic, the heat of the volcanoes, physical and emotional healing, and intimacy.”  
  
“What about black?”  
  
“Black for Chavi West-Wind, for the gods’ goodwill, clean bodies and clean souls, the music of our people, and for…” Kalasin falters. “For a happy marriage.”  
  
There is a silence between them, before Kalasin guides the needle into her daughter’s hand. On the first try, Thayet’s beads turn out uneven.  
  
Thayet’s lip trembles. “They’re all wobbly!”  
  
“They are beautiful, my love,” Kalasin soothes. “It’s only a question of tension — how tight you pull the thread. You’ll get it with practice.”  
  
“I will practice every day forever,” Thayet vows.  
  
Kalasin laughs, rich and deep. Thayet giggles along, even though her vow was in earnest. With Kalasin’s help, Thayet sews a few more beads. They sit straighter, yellow and green bright against brown leather.  
  
It is only a question of tension.

  
  
2.  
  
As Thayet learns the craft, Kalasin turns her attention back to her own work. Many an afternoon, they can be found beading side by side until the light from the windows fades. Over months and years, the blanket becomes more elaborate, more intricate, as Kalasin pours hours into its decoration. Thayet develops a deft hand and an eye for design.  
  
“By the time your own daughter marries,” Kalasin praises, “you will be the best beader in all Sarain. She will be so proud of the beautiful things you will make.”  
  
Thayet casts an admiring eye at the blanket on Kalasin’s lap. “I can’t wait to get married and show everyone what you made for me.”  
  
Thayet looks back down. She doesn’t see her mother’s face crumple.

  
  
3.  
  
After Kalasin jumps, Adigun burns all her belongings. Among the ashes, Thayet finds the blanket. She leaves the mass of melted beads and charred fabric where it lies.  
  
Thayet does not bead again for twenty-four years.

  
  
  
4.  
  
When Kally weds Kaddar, the blanket draped over their shoulders sparkles blue, red, white, and black.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a Kalasin-centric Triathlon series. Title inspired by Linda Hogan’s poem “When the Body”. I did pull from the lore we have about the K’mir, but this series, and especially this work in particular, is heavily influenced by my own experience of indigeneity.


End file.
